Standing Guard
by xCaligula
Summary: Harley gets stuck standing guard for the Joker and finds herself in quite the predicament. Warning: Contains omorashi!


**A/N: I've been trying my hand at quite a few omorashi stories lately, since I'm taking commissions for them. I figured I needed to practice and get back in the swing of things. Anyway, since Harley is my favorite female character of all time, I figured it would be nice to write one for her.**

Harley absolutely hated when they were short on help, when she had to take on the work of a common henchman. She should be by his side, helping him in a much more direct way, not standing guard while he pulled off the early stages of his latest heist.

The details of which, by the way, he hadn't even _shared_ with her! Because, he said, if she wasn't directly involved, she should be just as surprised as the Bat and everyone else, and then she could laugh it up with all the sincerity you experience the first time you hear a truly great joke.

She loved him with all her heart, she really did, but she also really, _really_ hated his logic most of the time.

But more than that, she hated standing guard, bored out of her mind, because he had driven off and/or killed the henchmen at the last minute, all for the sake of his sense of humor. She wasn't a patient gal, she wasn't a "stand guard" kind of person; she was a woman of action, and she was a woman who didn't like to be separated from her lover for prolonged amounts of time.

She had made her distaste very clear to him from the beginning, but somehow he had distracted her from her complaining by taking her out for a pre-heist dinner. It had all been incredibly lovely; it always surprised and awed her how he could hold an entire restaurant hostage all on his own.

She was allowed to have only one glass of their finest wine, as he wanted her sober, alert, and on her toes for the rest of the night, but she was allowed as much soda as she wanted and she honestly liked that better.

And because of that, tonight was going to be even worse, even more torturous than usual, because she had had just a bit too much of that soda and hadn't had a chance to go to the bathroom before they left.

Now, she was stuck here- wherever here even _was_\- and there wasn't a bathroom in sight. They had already been there or quite a while and she wondered what the hell he could possibly be up to.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, longing for him to stride out confidently, say it was done, take her hand, and lead her home, but still, he lingered. She bit her lip then quickly regretted it- black lipstick doesn't taste very good.

She crossed her legs and tried to distract herself fro her position by thinking about absolutely anything else. She tried imagining what he was up to, but that just reminded her of how desperate she was to leave. She tried daydreaming about a romantic day with him, but that just reminded her of how much she had had to drink on their date.

She realized that she couldn't afford to wait too much longer, and opened the door she was guarding, poking her head in.

"What is it, Harley?" he asked. She couldn't tell from here what he was doing, and she was sure that he was trying to conceal it from her. "Is somebody coming?"

"N-no, it's not that," she said nervously. She could already see him getting angry with her for distracting him over nothing.

"Then what, exactly, is it?"

"W-well, you've been in here for a while, and I was just wondering how long it was going to take."

"Oh, Harley," he said, his face relaxing. Of course, she wasn't fooled by the sudden gentleness. "Harley, Harley, Harley." He strode across the room, and leaned down to make eye contact with her. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times-" the kind look vanished from his face- "you can't rush genius!"

With that, he shoved her head back out the door and slammed it in her face. She should have known better than to even bother asking. She crossed her legs again, and squirmed a bit in place. She knew she would just have to buckle down and wait it out, but it was getting harder and harder with every second.

Her bladder felt like an overfilled water balloon- one wrong move and it could pop, soaking everything in range. Harley had to quickly push that image out of her mind, because the thought of that humiliating relief almost pushed her over the edge.

She could not even think of standing still at this point; she wiggled around like a hyperactive child and jiggled her legs. She only hoped that when it was time to leave, she could get to a bathroom without acting too desperate.

That would certainly not be possible if she did not get out of here soon and so she called through the door, "Puddin'?"

"What is it this time?" he answered, sighing impatiently.

"I really, really think we should get out of her soon. We've been here for so long and I'm sure our cover's gonna get blown if we hang around too much..."

"Harley, sweetie, you know that I would not take this long if I didn't deem it absolutely necessary. Are you saying that you know what to do better than I do?"

"N-no, definitely not, I just-"

"Harley, if you interrupt me or rush me one more time..." He didn't finish his threat, but he didn't need to.

"I'm sorry..." she mumbled. If only she were wearing a skirt, or anything easier to get in and out of than this damn costume! At least then she could slip around the corner and take care of this predicament before he came out.

She jammed a hand between her legs as she squirmed around, whimpering quietly. There was just no way she could make it at this point, but she dreaded his reaction upon seeing that she had done something so humiliating and childish.

She grit her teeth and doubled over, determined to hold it just a little bit longer. She could not loose control like this, she had to hold it, she absolutely could not wet herself...

She felt a bit dribble out, and squeaked, holding herself tightly, and bouncing up and down in place. She was sure there was a small, dark patch on the red half of her costume, and she could certainly feel a bit of wetness. She preferred to not wear panties with this outfit, since it was so tight that the panty-line it left was dreadful.

"Please, please, please, no," she begged, gritting her teeth and crossing her legs as tightly as possible. She was giving this her all, a last-ditch effort to regain control over herself, but it was all to no avail.

All at once, she felt her body give in to the pressure and her bladder began to empty, releasing hot piss. It flowed in streams down her legs, turning the bright red half to a deep burgundy and splashing on her shoes. She pulled her hands out from between her legs quickly, but her gloves were already soaked.

The stream showed no sign of slowing down, as a large puddle was formed at her feet. Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched herself piss everywhere and she couldn't even wipe her eyes because her gloves were so wet and she didn't want to smear her face paint.

When at last it did slow to small trickle, she had managed to calm down her tears, and then it stopped altogether. Now she was left with a huge mess, and there was no way to conceal what she had done. She knew that he would be incredibly angry with her, and might even leave her for good this time. Maybe it would be better to take off before he came out and saw what she had done...

Just as she was thinking this, the door flung open and he came out, whistling proudly to himself. "Come on, Harley, it's time to leave," he said, then, finally noticing the state she was in, raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What the- what happened out here?"

"Well, you see, I, um..." The two of them were at a loss for words and they just stared at each other, him with his puzzled expression, and her looking as if she wished she could phase into the wall behind her and disappear. Any minute now, his confusion would be replaced by fury as he sent her packing.

"Harley..." he said softly, and she cringed, waiting for him to go off on her. Instead...he broke out laughing, to the point that he had to lean against a wall for support. When he finally stopped, he wiped a stray tear from his eyes and said, "I get it!"

"You...what?" she asked, not sure what exactly was happening. It seemed that he was more amused than angry, and that didn't make sense to her.

"I get what you did," he said, chuckling quietly. "Because you kept rushing me...and I was taking so long...this is just the perfect ending to that scenario! Why, you little...how long have you been planning something like this?"

Suddenly, it dawned on her that he thought this was some kind punchline and that everything she had done tonight was entirely intentional, right up to the part where she wet herself. Well, better to play along, she supposed...

"Oh, I've been planning it for ages!" she said. "I almost thought I'd never get the chance!"

"Well, come on," he said, taking her hand, "I think I've got something that can top this!" And with that, he started home and Harley followed contentedly.


End file.
